Lord of Illusions
by Blue Roses
Summary: Remus would have to get another job after he left Hogwarts, wouldn't he? I realised evening what he could do.


Lord of Illusions  
  
By Blue Roses   
  
email blue_roses42@hotmail.com  
  
When I was half way through this I realised it bore a certain resemblance to the Clive Barker film, Lord of Illusions, so I decided to steal the title as well as some of the ideas :) Go and see it, it's a great film.  
  
Disclaimer: Remus does not belong to me, nor does anyone else in the Harry Potter universe. They belong to J. K. Rowling.   
  
In the carriage away from Hogwarts I tried to plan my future. I had no idea what I could do. The magical community all knew I was a werewolf, and they weren't known for being too kind to people like me. I'd got by before on a few odd jobs, but no-one would employ me now, and I really needed something permanent.  
  
The only thing I could think of was working for muggles. I went into London, and after a few days I found a job in a bar too seedy and dark to care who or what I was, which paid enough to survive with, if not to become comfortable on.  
  
On Saturday nights they had a show, various acts trying to make it in the big city tried out their acts and prayed to be noticed by someone influential. They all knew there wasn't much hope of that in this particular dive, but they put on a convincing show of looking interested in the customers, and some of them were quite good.  
  
We had musical acts, mainly, singers or bands. They were always desperate for recognition, and willing to work for only a small amount of pay. One Saturday as I arrived there was a bit of a buzz in the air. The manager, Richard, was looking pleased with himself. I assumed he'd made some money at the races until I heard him talking to Steve, the other barman.  
  
"I've got a quality act in here tonight" he said "A magician, like. Real good they say he is too."  
  
My ear pricked up. Magic? I thought the muggles weren't supposed to know about that?  
  
"Yeah" answered Steve "But that stuff's a load of crap usually. I mean it's obvious he's only hiding the stuff up his sleeve or whatever. I don't rate these illusionists much. Bunch of con artists, that's what I think."  
  
Ah, Illusionists. People pretending to be magicians. Obviously the muggles had got ideas about magic, and with their sense of the surreal had decided there must be an explanation. They had set out to prove that they could do magic themselves, by a set of tricks.  
  
I watched the show that night with some interest, and quietly laughed with the audience as the illusionist made cards disappear and reappear as if by magic, whilst doing a comedy routine. Although, as Steve had pointed out, you could see how some of the tricks were done, the wonder of the audience, and the presence of the magician caught my imagination. If only he had some real magical talent. They would be rolling in the isles.  
  
An idea sprang half formed into my head. He didn't have the talent, but I on the other hand...  
  
Several objections sprung immediately to mind. The first was the ministry of magic. If they heard of this...well it wouldn't be much fun for me, I could tell you that. Then I realised the ministry must know about stage illusionists. Even I had heard of some of the really famous ones, living on the edge of muggle society, the ones who no-one could work out how their tricks were done. Even so no-one suspected for a moment that they were real magicians, living as they did in the world of smoke and mirrors.   
  
The ministry probably wouldn't get annoyed if none of the muggles believed, and they probably wouldn't hear about it anyway. As I had found out, stage acts were two a penny in the rougher bits of London. Everyone dreamed of the salvation of the big time lurking behind the glitter and the bright lights. Everyone was willing to role the dice of fate and find out if they could become a star. The truth was that most of them wouldn't make it, but that didn't stop the dream from driving them on.  
  
The other objection was my fear of appearing on stage. Ever since a production of Hamlet, which we had attempted at school when staying there one Christmas, which had gone horribly wrong, I had had a fear of the stage. This fear was soon dealt with, as most fears are, with the thought of money. Although I am not usually a very hedonistic person, the thought of earning enough to treat myself occasionally, or protect myself against unforeseen crises was a warming one, and one under which the iciest fears might have melted.  
  
***  
  
Loopy Lupin first made his appearance about a month later. I spent the month preparing and honing my act. I had thought of using Moony as a stage name, but it brought back to many memories of James and Sirius, and all the time I had spent suspecting Sirius to be a killer, which I didn't want to think about. Sirius had been my friend, and I had treated him awfully.  
  
The hardest part of pretending was trying to make the tricks look as if they were illusions. It is much more difficult than it sounds trying to make it look as if there could be an explanation for apparation. It is magic, after all. After a while I decided I'd just have to pretend to be a very good illusionist.   
  
The jokes and patter that went with the act weren't so bad. I'd spent my school days learning to cover up after practical jokes, and I decided that making an audience laugh couldn't be half as bad as trying to lie to a suspicious professor, or trying to teach a class of Slytherins, either.  
  
When I approached Richard about performing, he was rather surprised. I hadn't been too talkative up to that point, and I think he was afraid I would bore the punters. After a while I convinced him to let me have a go, and so he set it up. "Not my fault if you get bottles or whatever thrown at you, though mate.", were his comforting word the night I arrived to perform for the first time.  
  
The audience that night weren't too bad. There were a few regulars, and some teenagers that had come in, probably looking to get alcohol that they weren't legally allowed, and get drunk. No one was fired up about the magic, but then it was my job to get them fired up about it.   
  
My stomach was flipping over before I went on stage. I thought I was going to be sick. The few lights in the club looked brighter than they ever had before, and they sparkled in my watering eyes. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol which permeated the bar as usual contributed to my nausea.  
  
Steve nodded to me. It was my time to go on stage. I climbed the wooden steps, which constantly felt as if they were going to fall in and went up to the microphone, my props securely in my pockets.  
  
When I reached the front of the stage, I froze.  
  
There, at the back of the bar was Sirius Black.  
  
I didn't know what to do. He'd obviously seen my name on the few posters that had advertised the weekly event, and come to see what it was all about. I had no idea he was anywhere near London, and I knew he probably shouldn't be this near another wizard with all the people looking for him.   
  
I was scared about what he would think of the show, but at the same time incredibly glad he had come. He was the best friend I had left, after all.   
  
Steve coughed, and I realised where I was. I launched into my act, which was almost second nature to me, I had practised it so much. I made rabbits apparate into hats, found odd things in unexpected places and made the name of audience member appear on a clear blackboard. Finally, I reached my last trick. I caused a volunteer from the audience to hover several feet in the air.  
  
The audience began to clap, and more importantly, in the audience Sirius began to clap too. My heart warmed. I knew that I had been a success tonight, even if I hadn't taken the world by storm. Sirius was clapping and smiling. My friend was there to support me, and I had the strength to do whatever I wanted to do. 


End file.
